


Because I Liked You Better

by Hana_Noiazei



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mertalia, Period-Typical Homophobia, oh look a fanfic of a fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hana_Noiazei/pseuds/Hana_Noiazei
Summary: "Goodbye," said you, "forget me.""I will, no fear," said I.In which one Mathias laments and remembers, and another considers.
Relationships: Denmark/Norway, Denmark/Norway (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Because I Liked You Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SteadfastBrightStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteadfastBrightStar/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Between Sea and Shore](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037786) by [SteadfastBrightStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteadfastBrightStar/pseuds/SteadfastBrightStar). 



> This is based on A.E. Housman's poem "Because I Liked You Better". It goes:
> 
> Because I liked you better  
>  Than suits a man to say,  
> It irked you, and I promised  
>  To throw the thought away.
> 
> To put the world between us  
>  We parted, stiff and dry;  
> "Good-bye,” said you, "forget me.”  
>  "I will, no fear,” said I.
> 
> If here, where clover whitens  
>  The dead man’s knoll, you pass,  
> And no tall flower to meet you  
>  Starts in the trefoiled grass,
> 
> Halt by the headstone naming  
>  The heart no longer stirred,  
> And say the lad that loved you  
>  Was one that kept his word.

_1831_

If only he had not lost his heart. 

As Mathias rowed away into the cold night, he looked away from the stars, those hundreds upon hundreds of blinding eyes that shone and saw too much; he tried to block out the sound of the waves rolling and lapping against his boat, the gentle accompaniment to a _havmann_ ’s song. Everything about the murky, too-still nothingness his boat was upon reminded him of Lukas.

The wind murmured its ballad, stirring the blue-black waves up until water sloshed over the side of his boat and soaked his shoes. Mathias jumped back and shivered. He could not help thinking about the day he’d taught Lukas how to dance, clasped his delicate hands in his and guided him around the beach in a clumsy, stumbling imitation of a waltz. They’d spun round in the sand all afternoon, laughing as they accidentally stepped into the water. Lukas’ face had been awash with joy, practically glowing in the sunlight, and his cheeks had flushed rosy pink. 

He pinched himself. Thoughts of Lukas would only hurt him more. He would drown in his accurséd longing with no feasible way to quench it, and one day he would be so submerged in it that his lungs themselves would close up and refuse to let him live a day longer without his _havmann_.

Mathias knew that the moment he docked his boat at Copenhagen it would not just be the sea between him and Lukas, but all the world as well. For love sparked between man and man was bad enough, love between men of land and sea was surely an unspeakable abomination. To even miss his lover meant he would be branded a sinner by the society he had spent a year trying to escape.

And with the world between them, this judgemental world the fence between an exhausted addict and an outlandish creature, how could they ever see each other again? How could they love each other as lovers were supposed to, openly for all to see? No, the best thing to do was to forget.

They had not even said goodbye to each other. They, two fools, one timeless and one too young, had only made empty, beautiful promises that could not be fulfilled, for though their resolves were strong, all of society was stronger still. He had told Lukas that he would always remember him, but oh, how could that be possible? To remember was to think, and high society was not kind to men who thought of other men. Thinking a single thought of him would have Mathias dragg’d away, would condemn him to tearing rope until tears fell from his eyes and blood from his fingertips. Lukas would always remember him, shielded by the lawless sea, but Mathias would have to dispel thoughts of him forevermore.

He knew he was a coward. Only the worst of fools were ashamed of their love, and hid them like the most debauched of crimes. To society, love such as the one that consumed him so deeply was a deplorable crime, though, and considered worthy of hatred. Mathias could add that to his list of sins - in total, he could be convicted for his addiction, his incompetence, his taciturnity and his love. Those were perhaps just as destructive to the high society of Copenhagen as the four wretched horsemen were to the world.

Land was approaching; in minutes he would be back in Copenhagen. Once Mathias stepped off his boat, the year of bliss he’d experienced on Havmann Island would vanish as though dragged to sea, and in its place would return the joyless parties, sleepless nights and the bitter burn of laudanum. 

It was just past midnight; the city was mostly sound asleep. He manoeuvred his boat into the harbour and exited it for what would possibly be the last time. 

Entering his old house felt like both the easiest and most difficult deed he’d ever done. Every step felt like a betrayal, for why was he alone here when he should be in that old stone house on his island, holding the love of his life? Not bothering to change his clothes, he went up to his room, lay down on his bed and closed his eyes.

Though he was exhausted from his journey, sleep refused to claim him. On his mind was the time he and Lukas had slept together for a few fleeting hours, curled up together on his bed. He had spent each and every second holding his lover’s slight frame, trying to memorise all the beautiful parts of him before finally dozing off. When he slept, he had been curled up on his side, nose buried in his fine hair as he breathed him in deeply and smiled. When they had awoken, long before either were truly well-rested, Mathias had had to carry him back to the sea, kissing him tenderly on the forehead before lowering him into the water. 

Mathias rolled over and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to replicate the way he’d held Lukas that day. Still he could not sleep. 

He did not realise he was crying until the tears began to soak his pillow, and could not stop once he was aware of them. He let himself sob into the pillow, boiling tears rolling down his cheeks as he thought of the love he would never see again. He cursed himself for loving those who could not love back, for being a man who ne’er could love a woman, for being a fool who grew enamoured with the sea. His own tears felt a disgrace, just as agonising a liquid as the accursed laudanum that blurred the sharp corners of reality. 

He could not breathe, could not see, could not think. Mathias could scarcely feel anything save for the ache of loneliness that tore him apart inside, that eternal reminder that he was now alone. He did not know how long he spent sniffling and shaking pathetically until sleep finally had mercy on him and took him away. Even then, he was sure his dreams would be of Lukas. He simply could not escape him.

...

_2013_

“I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.”

“Starting to?” Lukas’ voice was barely audible over the wind, which screamed as though it objected to their travel. “I regretted my decision to come with you the moment I got on this boat.”

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now!” He called. Mathias wiped water away from his eyes and steered the boat away from a particularly large wave. Why on earth the rainstorm decided today was the day to make itself unpleasantly known to the world, he had no idea.

Lukas huffed. His feathery blond hair was plastered to his head from the rain, and his eyes were glued to the water, as though glaring at it could make it calm down. “Didn’t you bother to check the weather forecast before setting off?”

“I didn’t think it was important!”

“We’re boating two hours to a remote island, _completely alone_ , and you thought the weather wouldn’t be important?” 

“Don’t rub my stupidity in my face _now_ , okay?” Mathias shook water out of his hair, squinting through the rain in search of Havmann Island. “Once we get to our island and make sure all the stuff we brought isn’t waterlogged, you can tell me how much of an idiot I am. Just not now.”

He scowled, but didn’t say anything more. 

To both their relief, the island came into sight soon after. Mathias dragged his bag of supplies off the boat and onto land again while water dripped from his pants. Lukas followed, looking thoroughly disgruntled to be sopping wet. He quite resembled, Mathias noticed, an angry cat.

Right before he could head for the little stone house that was the only manmade structure on the island, something glittering caught his eye. Mathias put his back down and ran back towards the water, getting his shoes and the hem of his pants even wetter. Not that it mattered, though - he was already wet, this wouldn’t make much of a difference. 

He peered into the sand, and saw what had glimmered in the bleak, rainy afternoon. It was a golden cross, just about as big as half his palm. He leant down and picked it up, tilting it back and forth. Attached to the back of it was a hairpin of some sorts. Perhaps this had been an accessory of some sort in the past.

“What did you find?” Lukas asked, walking towards him. The rain had weakened to a slight drizzle, and the sea around them no longer raged. Mathias stepped out of the water and onto the sand before answering.

“Looks like a clip.” He showed it to Lukas. “I wonder how it managed to wash up here, of all places.”

“Mmhmm.” He took the clip from him and stared into its surface. Despite probably having been underwater for a few years, at the very least, the cross still shone as though it were new. In the reflection of the clip, Lukas’ face appeared warmer, softer. “It’s pretty,” he murmured. Before Mathias could say more, he slid the clip into his hair.

It suited him. The cross was the only bright thing on him, juxtaposing radiantly with his dull, unassuming clothing and his pale hair, but it somehow felt rather fitting. It seemed to bring a gleam into his gaunt eyes, too. Mathias suddenly felt rather warm despite being soaked, and decided to look at the sky instead. “Are you sure it doesn’t belong to someone?”

“If its old owner wanted it, it wouldn’t have made its way into the ocean,” was Lukas’ brusque answer. He adjusted the clip slightly, tucking a wayward lock behind his ear. “It’s lighter than I expected.”

Mathias looked back at him, at the golden clip nestled into his hair, and remembered a scene from that book he so loved, the first Mathias’ creation that he’d lent to his companion. Hadn’t his main character, the one that scholars whispered he was in love with, wore a clip like that? And the first Mathias had lived on this island too, long ago. “Wait,” he surprised himself by saying.

Lukas glanced at him. “What is it?”

“In that book, the one I lent you,” he said hurriedly, “the protagonist wore a clip like that. And there were rumours going around that he was based on someone Mathias knew. And he spent a year on this island before publishing his work. So, uh, what if this clip belonged to the person the Lukas in the story is based on?”

“Didn’t the first Mathias die over a hundred and fifty years ago, though?” He touched the clip pensively. “If he’d left the clip here, there’s no way this could have remained for so long.”

“I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about the clip’s owner.” It was nigh impossible to tear his eyes away from the clip. “Maybe they outlived Mathias and somehow their clip got here.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Lukas snorted.

“It could happen!” He protested. “Stuff like this tends to last a really long time, after all. ‘For time could no more tarnish gold than it could tarnish the fevers of love’,” he quoted from the first Mathias’ book. 

“It’s quite the opposite from what happened to Mathias himself, don’t you think?” He put the clip back on again. “He’s the one who’s forgotten in his hometown, while this person, whoever they are, will always be remembered because this cross of theirs still sticks around. It’s strange,” Lukas added next.

“Why?”

“The sea is where things are forgotten.” Mathias did not comment on the irony of his words, for they both knew that poor Emil and his watery death would always remain in their minds. “This clip was doomed to be forgotten, but here it is. I don’t know their name, but I know I’ll remember its owner now.”

The rain had cleared; the sun was drying off their damp clothes and made the clip even shiner. “You’ll take on the burden of always thinking about this person you’ve never met before?”

He shrugged. “Someone has to do the remembering.”

“I will, too,” Mathias agreed. “I’ll remember this clip and the person behind it even if they were supposed to be wiped from memories. I don’t know why, but it feels right.” He picked up his bag again, and Lukas did the same. “Let’s go put our stuff down now. After that, we can explore the island.”

They both stepped out of the water, even though gentle waves rolled on the sand and beckoned for them to stay. Clip in Lukas’ hair, thoughts of his predecessor in Mathias’, they turned away and walked towards the house.


End file.
